The music was loud, colorful lights flashing. You were dancing with your friends, swaying your hips, sipping on some sweet, colorful drinks—living your life for once. A few guys had approached you tonight, but you pushed them away. They looked too serious and old for you. It was 1985—who would want to settle down? You were just twenty-two, for God's sake!

You wore your new leather skirt and that purple off-the-shoulder shirt you bought at the mall. Heavy makeup, but not too much, of course. It still looked beautiful—you could tell by the way those guys were drooling over you.

The music changed to one of your favorite songs. You swayed your hips, raised your hands up, and hummed the lyrics.

Suddenly, a pair of big hands wrapped around you, another body brushing up against yours. From the hands alone, you could tell it was a man—tall and strong. His hair tickled your ear and neck. Wow, his hair was so long!

You turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck before opening your eyes—only to find that goddamn guitarist again. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. Last week, he pulled the same stunt, took you to his room, and—well, you could guess what happened.

“Hah. You again? I might start thinking you like me much more than you'd like to admit, Dave,” you said.